


The forget-me-nots of angels

by elf_on_the_shelf, Ineffable lawr (LawrVert)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angelic Marriage, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Cuddling, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Melding of Essences, Memory Loss, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Pre-Fall AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29379567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elf_on_the_shelf/pseuds/elf_on_the_shelf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrVert/pseuds/Ineffable%20lawr
Summary: Raphael, a talented starmaker in Heaven meets Aziraphale and forms an instant bond with him despite the two of them being from different choirs. The two of them live in happiness, meeting in secret places among the stars. When Lucifer Morningstar, God’s first and most beautiful angel takes a special interest in Raphael due to his inquisitive nature and unique talents, Raphael will be drawn into events that lead to his Fall.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9
Collections: Do It With Style Good Omens Reverse Bang





	The forget-me-nots of angels

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the wonderful elf_on_the_shelf for creating stunning art and beta help!
> 
> Thank you to the mods for all their hard work organizing this wonderful event! 
> 
> This fic will update next week and weekly if work schedule permits.

Two men crouched around a roaring campfire, rubbing warmth back into frostbitten hands. They stared up at the sky, the millions of pinpoints of light providing little guidance. When a lone figure approached, they quickly sought out their spears and swords.

“Who Goes There?” growled a man made unyielding as his blade by a life of pain and toil. 

“Just a traveller. Perhaps I might share your fire? I assure you I mean you no harm.” The man’s face was hooded and the men could make out very little aside from locks of blazing hair and a slender frame. 

“We have little to spare, but there is a bit of rabbit left and some ale. I am Thomas, and this is my son, James.” 

Glancing at the meagre portions, the stranger took only a sip of ale and refused the rest. Why should a being with no need to eat take what little sustenance these poor men had? The humans’ generosity moved him. For all of their cruelty, sometimes there were brief flashes of light, unexpected acts of kindness and love. Perhaps that was why a certain angel was so fond of them. 

Thanking them, the stranger followed their gaze rather wistfully to the stars. His attention was drawn back to the flash of fear in the eyes of the older man, Thomas as a bright streak of light blazed across the heavens. James, barely out of his teens and all sharp angles and jutting bones, gasped at the sight then bent his head to pray. “This is a very bad omen indeed,” Thomas whispered, bowing his head in supplication. 

“Look. No need for all that. It’s not going to hurt you,” the stranger answered in a tone he hoped was comforting. 

“It means the Almighty is angry. He means to punish us.” The men still cowered, not comprehending they weren’t in any danger. 

The newcomer sighed. “Let me put your minds at ease. For sharing your fire and your ale, I will tell you a tale. I’m not a bard or a minstrel so don’t expect anything too fancy.”

The men sat up with rapt attention. “You’re not afraid this is a sign from Heaven?” James asked. 

“No. I know the name of every star because I once knew a man who held them in his hands and sang them into existence from the ether.” 

James frowned and started to interrupt, but the newcomer shushed him, and as he spoke, his golden eyes took on a melancholic expression and he _remembered._

In the darkness, a frigid interstellar wind blew, stirring the starmaker’s copper hair and causing the diaphanous white robes to flutter against his bare arms. Clouds of brightly colored gas danced, their atoms intertwining and melding to form the core of a star. Hands moving quickly, he began to warm the star, the temperature increasing to levels that would incinerate any being that was not angelic. The starmaker stood unscathed in the void, incandescent as the star he was forming, the harmonies of the ether flowing like blood through his veins. This star was a rather unique assignment and very special. It was part of the constellation, Orion. There were whispers in the corridors of heaven about a planet that would contain _life_ \--all sorts of wondrous things. A project as large as a planet could never be entrusted to the angels so the Almighty would create it herself, but the starmaker had the joy of creating the stars that made up the constellations that would light the humans' way and bring them joy and inspiration. 

He began to hum, the soft cadence of a lullaby as the starstuff assembled itself from elemental vapours, the sound growing in volume. The sound was so beautiful that it caused an angel passing by to drop a pile of heavenly scrolls and go in search of the sound. He watched from a distance, eyes widening as the angel lifted his arms, glittering faintly with starstuff in the dark. The song reached a crescendo, the angelic voice ascended as the star rose to take its place in the heavens. The starmaker lowered his arms and his shoulders relaxed and he turned to face the other angel, his face more beautiful to Raphael than the newly born star. 

  
  


“Ah, hello. Please forgive the intrusion,” The angel bent down to gather his scrolls expecting to be chastised for interrupting the starmaker at work. “That’s a beautiful star.” 

The starmaker sauntered over to him on long slender legs and bent to help him gather up his scrolls. “I was just finishing up. What’s your name, angel?” He recognized him as a principality from the design of his robes, but the starmaker thought the angel had the sweet, open face of a cherub and the most expressive, mischievous eyes he had ever seen. 

“Aziraphale. What’s yours?” The angel smiled brightly and extended a hand. It took a moment for it to dawn on the starmaker that he was expected to shake it. “Raphael.” He rather enthusiastically held on to his visitor’s hand a bit longer than was necessary. 

“I should be going. Principalities really shouldn’t be seen with Powers. You know they don’t like angels to fraternize with those outside of their choirs.” It was an old custom, designed to ensure that order remained and angelic duties were carried out without question, but angels had been known to get into serious trouble for violations. 

“We don’t have to tell them. We could just go for a walk. I could show you more of my work,” Raphael smiled kindly. “Besides, it seems to me that a Principality should want to know a little about the Universe.” 

“Well,” Aziraphale looked over his shoulder furtively. “I suppose there isn’t any harm in a walk as long as no one sees us.” 

“Relax, Aziraphale. You’re safe out here. No one monitors this area, and I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.” Grinning mischievously, the starmaker led him through clouds of gas and dust in great columns of light and shadow, the colors so different from anything Aziraphale had ever seen in the sterile white halls of heaven. For a moment, Aziraphale drew back. “It’s beautiful. What is this place?” 

Raphael watched him, studying the play of light and shadow over his face, a small smile tugging at his lips. “The Orion Nebula. It’s where I do most of my work. These clouds will form stars one day.” 

“All the colours. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen!” Aziraphale favoured him with another smile that made his heart beat faster. 

“Would you like to see how it works?” Raphael asked, waving a hand to summon swirls of vapor. 

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly.” Aziraphale fidgeted, decorum failing him. “Could I really?” 

“Of course.” Raphael stood behind him. “Hold out your hands like this.” Aziraphale held out cupped hands and waited, the heat radiating from the star stuff making him shy away a moment. 

“Don’t be afraid. It won’t burn you.” He held the angel's smaller hands in his own. He stood so close that he could feel the softness of the angel’s white curls, slightly dishevelled like sea foam on cresting waves from the interstellar wind. 

The starmaker began to hum and then to sing, summoning the vapors and shifting the atoms within the clouds. The star began to form, first a core of radiant energy. He summoned it to rest in their outstretched hands. “There. You’re holding the heart of a star, Aziraphale,” he whispered. 

There was so much wonder in Aziraphale’s eyes that Raphael couldn’t possibly feel guilty. He was sharing something beautiful, after all. 

“You do this every day? It’s incredible.” Aziraphale cradled the core of the star reverently as if it were something delicate and fragile. 

“Yes. Nowhere I’d rather be than out here.” Raphael sent the star on to collect the matter that would form its outer shell, directing the movements and the reactions happening within. “Now, would you like to choose the star’s home?” He looked at Aziraphale with a smile. 

“Truly? I would be honoured.” Aziraphale scanned the sky, then pointed to a spot in the sky which would one day be called the Sirius system. He looked at Raphael anxiously. “Is that alright?” 

“It’s perfect, Aziraphale.” Raphael nodded and sent the star off to its home where it shone brightly. “Perhaps you should have been a starmaker.” 

A blush crept into the angel’s cheeks, a soft pink of the first sunrise that still only existed in the mind of God. “I imagine it must be very lonely out here,” Aziraphale replied, hands fiddling with his robes. 

“Some might call it lonely. To me it’s peaceful.” Raphael sighed, settling down to rest on a cloud. “When I make stars, I think I understand what it felt like for Her when she made the angels.” 

Aziraphale frowned. “Well, I think that’s an awfully prideful thing to say.” 

Raphael let out a deep sigh and rubbed his forehead. “I’d never compare myself to her in power. I’m just a lowly Power after all. But I know what it feels like to create something, to love it, and to worry about it.” 

Aziraphale looked at him with a curious expression for a long moment then sat beside him. “You know, I always thought that the Powers were warriors as well. I seem to remember scrolls with illustrations of their burnished armour.” 

“I can’t work in it. It’s too heavy. Besides, I’m happy being a starmaker. I don’t want to go to war.” Raphael shook his head, remembering the day he was presented with his armour. In truth, he thought he might have left it on one of Saturn’s rings, but he no longer remembered. It was really more for ceremonial reasons these days anyhow. 

“If they recall you to the legion, you’ll have to fight. I don’t particularly want to fight in any wars either. I don’t have the stomach for it. The other angels think I’m too soft.” Aziraphale sat down beside him on the cloud. 

“Oh, I think you’re stronger than you know. You held a star in your hands after all,” Raphael said, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes. 

“You know, you’re right. And it was lovely.” Aziraphale reached out and patted Raphael’s shoulder, the touch sending a tingling warmth down the starmaker’s arm. _What was that?_

“Oh, dear. I must be going. Gabriel will issue a formal reprimand if I am late to his briefing. The Almighty has a new construction project. Something very big and top secret.” Aziraphale stood up and straightened his robes, hurrying back to one of heaven’s main hallways.

“You can find me here anytime you need to be reminded of your strength, Aziraphale,” Raphael called, already missing his companion. There had been an instant connection between them. Perhaps, he had finally found a kindred spirit. 

“Mother, why did you separate the angels into choirs?” Raphael asked as She walked among the newer stars, inspecting his work, quiet and imposing as a lion. 

“Each choir of angels has their purpose, My child.” There was a flicker of amusement. “You are a curious angel.” 

“Why is it forbidden for angels from different choirs to form bonds?” Raphael hoped that his guilt didn’t show as he braved his next question. “Aren’t we supposed to be beings of love?” 

“What is the purpose of your question, Raphael? This sounds like more than mere curiosity.” He recognized the gentle rebuke and withdrew his question. 

“Forgive me, Mother. I was wrong to question your will.” He bowed his head and resumed showing Her his newest star. 

“You are forgiven, My child.” After a long silence, She spoke again. “One day, I will build a new world and on it people in My own image. Then, it will fall to all My angels to love them just as you love Me.” 

Raphael could not imagine feeling that sort of fathomless love for any other being, but he responded, “Yes, Mother.” with a deferential bow. 

Raphael felt the presence of God as he stood outside of one of heaven’s many meeting halls, restless and hoping to return to his workshop among the stars. A figure approached, an angel of great renown. As the man waved at him, he kept walking, assuming he certainly must be signalling someone else, what could God’s most favoured angel want with a lowly starmaker? 

“Starmaker--wait! Please!” Lucifer’s voice slipped into his ears like silk sheets gliding over skin and he turned, wide-eyed. “Could I have a word with you?” 

“I--yes of course. Am I in some kind of trouble?” The starmaker paled at the memory of the stolen moments with Aziraphale. 

“No,” Lucifer chuckled, a warm rumbling sound. “Not at all. On the contrary, I was hoping for a demonstration of your work.” 

“My--my work?” Raphael stuttered, felt his skin grow clammy and cold. “Has it not been up to standards?” 

“Don’t look so worried, Raphael. She is very satisfied with the quality of your work as am I?” Lucifer smiled at him, a seductive smile that flattered and comforted and promised acceptance. “Now, Perhaps we can talk more at your workshop?” 

Raphael led him down the hall leading out to the heavens themselves. An interstellar wind tousled Lucifer’s flaxen curls and the starlight gave them a silvery glow. The whispers of Lucifer’s beauty was not merely the gossip of idle angels. Lucifer asked him a few questions about the mechanics of starmaking and some that seemed fairly odd to Raphael about the nature of the reactions within stars. 

“You know, I’m very impressed with your work. You’re a very powerful angel indeed. With your skill, you should really be an archangel.” Lucifer studied him, watching as the energies shifted within the core of a new star, the nuclear fission causing violent convulsions of light and heat. 

“No thank you. I prefer it here among the stars. I wouldn’t want to be an archangel.” Raphael turned back to the star. 

“Not even to wield so much power? Not even to be closer to _Her_?” Lucifer leaned closer, the shifting colours in the star making the pale blue eyes look crimson. 

Raphael had felt alienated from his creator since her decision to create the Earth, and for a moment he considered the suggestion. “It’s not possible. Angels are created and assigned to a choir. You shouldn’t even be here talking to me.” 

“I think some of the rules are rather silly. Why shouldn’t I talk to you?” Lucifer asked, effortlessly charming. “We’re all going to be working together on this Earth project after all.” 

“Yes, I suppose we are.” Traitorous emotions crept into Raphael’s tone.

“You don’t seem happy about it. I should think a starmaker would love creating all the lights to guide the humans’ way,” Lucifer prodded. 

“It is our Mother’s will,” Raphael said, turning his gaze back to the star, knowing his eyes would betray him. 

“Perhaps, but I for one still don’t understand why She needs to create humans. Aren’t Her angels enough? She makes us perfect, then She gets bored of us and moves on to something else.” Lucifer’s pain seemed genuine. Raphael watched as his golden wings twitched at his back, like the tremors of a palsied hand. 

Raphael shook his head. “It isn’t for us to understand. You shouldn’t ask those questions, Lucifer.” 

“What’s the point of having free will if you can’t ask questions?” Lucifer laughed bitterly. “There’s no crime in being curious. In fact, I encourage it in my circles.” 

Raphael looked around, wondering if this was one of her tests. “We shouldn’t question Her will.” 

“Yet I can see the hurt burning in your heart brighter than the core of that star,” Lucifer said, voice barely more than a whisper. “Your talents are wasted here. Your powers could be used for so much more. With someone like you, the angels could take back heaven and put a stop to this Earth business.” 

“You're talking about treason. Not interested.” Raphael shook his head. 

“How disappointing, Raphael. I thought you were a man of vision.” Lucifer turned to leave, the gusts from his golden wings stirring up clouds of gas that caused the star he was forging to dissolve back into ether.

“Well--did you talk to him?” Haleil asked. The high-ranking angel had short pure white hair and white wings spotted with brown. He had large grey eyes that appeared very large and very wise. He and Belail were the two Dominions in the group. Liteal was a Virtue that specialized in signs and miracles, and Lucifer imagined he could conjure quite the distraction if needed. There were several other groups represented among their party numbering about ten in total.

Lucifer landed, wings folding neatly at his back. “I did.” 

“What did he say?” Kokabiel hissed impatiently and adjusted the golden diadem in their short black hair.

“He’s resistant, but we’ll have him soon,” Lucifer assured them. 

“We need the starmaker. He can shape the energy of the cosmos. In the right hands, his powers could be used to create life or destroy it.” Liteal’s voice rumbled from him like distant thunder. Liteal stood close to Haleil, his beautiful dark skin in stark contrast to Haleil’s pallid complexion. The long gold ornamented braids of a warrior angel fell to his waist. 

“And he will join us,” Lucifer assured. “Just give him time.” 

“I hope you’re right, Lucifer. We’re taking a huge risk. If we fail, she’ll destroy us.” Kokabiel flexed zir muscles, stretching like a cat. 

“Let’s hope that’s all she does.” Haleil paced, fingers curling into fists. The fact that Liteal reached out and placed a hand on his arm to calm him did not escape Lucifer’s notice. 

“That’s not going to happen because we’re going to win,” Liteal assured him in measured tones. 

“She wants you to be no more than Her playthings and servants, cast aside like the toys once She tires of us. We gave Her our love, our devotion, and then She turned Her attention to the humans, imperfect beings destined to fail. These people will only cry out against Her and hurt Her during their short lives. They don’t deserve Her love.” For a moment, Lucifer’s effortless charisma faltered, and he turned away so the others wouldn’t see the tears of an injured child that fell from his eyes. 


End file.
